


Try to Remember (2019)

by IvanW



Series: Original Series [7]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: After The Motion Picture, M/M, Memories, Old Married Spirk Challenge, Space Husbands, other characters referenced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21542413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvanW/pseuds/IvanW
Summary: Try to remember the kind of SeptemberWhen life was slow and ohso mellow.Try to remember the kind of SeptemberWhen grass was green and grain was yellow.Try to remember the kind of SeptemberWhen you were a tender and callow fellow.Try to remember and if you rememberthen followfollow.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: Original Series [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1181741
Comments: 22
Kudos: 70
Collections: Old Married Spirk





	Try to Remember (2019)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamsaremadeofthis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsaremadeofthis/gifts).



> My Star Trek: The Original Series Old Married Spirk Story 2019

**Prologue: After the mission, before V’Ger**

Jim nodded. “Okay. So.”

“So,” Spock repeated, tonelessly.

Jim looked behind him at the crowd bustling past them in the shuttle bay. Going about their business without thought to anyone else. Certainly not an idiot Human and an awkward Vulcan.

“Guess.” He cleared his throat. “Guess I should let you be on your way. Don’t want you to miss your shuttle.”

“Yes.” Spock moved to turn around.

“Goodbye, Spock. Good luck with everything.”

Spock looked back at Jim. “And you as well, Captain.”

Jim smiled faintly. “Jim. You’re not even in Starfleet anymore.”

“That is true,” Spock acknowledged. “Jim.”

“Give my best to your parents.”

“And to yours.”

“Will do.”

This time when Spock turned around, Jim didn’t say anything to stop him. But he did watch his former first officer’s retreating figure until he could no longer see him.

Everything was changing, Jim mused. He was no longer in command of the Enterprise, which was being redone anyway. They’d just promoted Will Decker to Captain and it was his ship now. Jim had been promoted. Basically against his will. But it was what it was.

Bones had retired. Soon Jim’s crew would be scattered all over the galaxy.

And Spock?

Kolinahr, from what he’d said.

Purging oneself from every emotion made some sick sort of sense at the moment, Jim thought, as he turned to leave.

As he caught transport back to HQ, Jim tried to forget the sight of the marks he’d left all over Spock’s skin the very night before.

As Spock would say, Kaiidth.

****

**After: V’Ger, Before Khan**

It was hard to believe for Kirk that Spock was back, after all this time. If he was back. Obviously, he’d come to help the Enterprise and spoke of his inability to complete Kolinahr. He’d known, somehow, as he’d always known, seemingly, that Kirk needed him, and he’d come.

But all that didn’t mean he was back for Kirk. _For_ Kirk. There was a difference between being back _fo_ r and being back _because_ and though the difference might be subtle to some, it was not to Kirk.

And all of that talk about “this simple feeling” didn’t necessarily mean what Kirk desperately wanted it to mean.

They’d both been hurt and by each other.

Kirk had hurt Spock with his…marriage and fathering a child with Miramanee. And even though he’d had memory trouble at the time, even after it, Kirk had felt so much for her, for the loss of her and their child. He’d admitted he didn’t know if what he felt for Spock was enough for him. If he could be…monogamous. It had been a lot for Spock to accept. Too much and it had ended them.

And then there was Reyna, perhaps not Kirk’s finest of moments or decisions, he didn’t know exactly what he’d been thinking, except that she had reminded him in so many ways of Spock, of who he could no longer have, Spock had made that clear, and before Kirk had even known it or could rationalize it, he was falling in love with a…a robot. A machine. And she could not be Spock. Ever.

At the end of the mission, Spock had walked away, predictably. Part of Kirk had told himself even if he hadn’t wrecked everything with Miramanee and that whole aftermath, Spock would have left him. What had he really to offer Spock? He couldn’t even agree to commit fully to Spock when it counted, and it had made him lose Spock.

The night before the mission ended, Kirk had gone to Spock, and had, admittedly, and without shame, seduced the Vulcan. He’d known then Spock would walk away and he’d wanted one last time.

And yet as they said goodbye, it had seemed so final and so…stilted and cold.

_Jim nodded. “Okay. So.”_

_“So,” Spock repeated, tonelessly._

_Jim looked behind him at the crowd bustling past them in the shuttle bay. Going about their business without thought to anyone else. Certainly not an idiot Human and an awkward Vulcan._

_“Guess.” He cleared his throat. “Guess I should let you be on your way. Don’t want you to miss your shuttle.”_

_“Yes.” Spock moved to turn around._

_“Goodbye, Spock. Good luck with everything.”_

_Spock looked back at Jim. “And you as well, Captain.”_

_Jim smiled faintly. “Jim. You’re not even in Starfleet anymore.”_

_“That is true,” Spock acknowledged. “Jim.”_

_“Give my best to your parents.”_

_“And to yours.”_

_“Will do.”_

And that had been the end of them. Of him and Spock. Until V’Ger.

They were headed back to Earth now, and whatever awaited them, as a crew, and them, as a couple. Kirk was…hopeful. Guardedly. But he believed he’d learned a lot in the time they had been separated and he very much hoped Spock would give him a chance.

As it happened, they made it back to Earth, to San Francisco, in record time, and Kirk hadn’t had any alone time with Spock. He refused to believe Spock intentionally avoided him as Bones had implied.

Bones had just left his apartment, after they’d had a quiet dinner, just the two of them, and though Bones had tried to have a real conversation, Kirk found himself far too distracted by thoughts of Spock.

His doorbell rang just after Bones had departed, so soon after, he’d gone to the door with a ready smile and a, “What you forget, Bones?”

It was not Bones.

“Spock.”

Kirk was aware of a million different emotions in that one name that filled him and made him feel unsteady on his feet. But gripping the door, he stood back to let Spock inside.

The Vulcan was dressed in simple brown slacks and a wheat colored sweater, but even in such simple, plain attire, he looked stunning to Kirk.

“Can I get you anything? Tea? Or?”

“Not at present.” Spock glanced around. “I would like to speak with you, Cap…Jim.”

He nodded and brought Spock into his living room, by the windows that looked out over San Francisco. He wanted to sit close to Spock, beside him, but he didn’t have a sofa for such purposes, only chairs. It had never mattered before.

He gestured to a chair for Spock and then sat in the other that was opposite.

“What’s on your mind, Spock?”

“You.”

He should have guessed Spock wouldn’t beat around the bush. When had he ever?

“Me,” he repeated.

“And your expectations.”

“I see.” Kirk found himself nodding again. And he felt vaguely like one of those old-fashioned bobble-headed dolls he’d seen in ancient pictures. “I don’t…really have any.” He looked down at his nails, which he’d been biting much too often these days, and so he winced. “With respect to the Enterprise or…?”

“It was my understanding you might not get the Enterprise again.”

Kirk made a face. “Er. Yeah. That’s plain enough. I’m still an admiral in their eyes and admirals don’t command starships. No matter how decorated.” He paused. Looked at Spock. “Have they offered her to you then?”

“They did not, however, had they done so I would have refused. I have no desire to captain a ship.”

“But they did promote you.”

Spock nodded. “Indeed. But command of a ship is not a destiny I sought. I have been asked to instruct cadets.”

“Cadets?”

“In the taking of the Kobayashi Maru, more specifically.”

Kirk smiled faintly. “So you’ll be here in San Francisco.”

“Yes. For now. Which is the point of my coming here. If you are not in command of the Enterprise, will you be here as well?”

“Looks that way. Are you sure I can’t get you a drink?” And was more to have something to say then and desire to move away to see to it.

“I am sure. A lot has happened since-since we made our mutual departures.”

Kirk wasn’t sure it was mutual, actually. He hadn’t wanted things to end the way they had and yet…what had he done to stop it? And he certainly had contributed to it.

“The Kolinahr?”

“A small part. But important, I suppose. I did wish to purge the hurt and pain associated with our relationship,” Spock said softly. “But also the more positive emotions as well.”

“Understandable,” Kirk murmured. But he wasn’t really sure he meant it. He decided Spock was being far too vague and he was beginning to lose patience. He needed to know why Spock was here, what it meant for them, if anything. “ _Spock, what’s on your mind_?” he asked again.

“I know that given our last night together after the mission ended, you might have had different expectations as to our future.”

“You mean, did I think we were getting back together after we made love that night?”

Spock moved his head downward, almost a nod, but not quite.

Kirk shook his head. “You gave me no indication that was the case.”

“The act of making love…”

“No,” he interrupted quickly. “I knew it was a-a goodbye. A way to end things between us tenderly. I had no expectations you meant anything but farewell.”

Spock stared down at his hands which were clenched in his lap. “And now? After V’Ger?”

“Do you remember our first night together? After T’Pring and everything.”

“I have an eidetic memory.”

Kirk sighed. Nodded. “Yes. But…do you remember? Not that way. How we felt. How you felt.”

Spock did not answer at first but then said, “Yes. And my feelings have not changed.” He looked up, meeting Kirk’s gaze. “And yours?”

He swallowed heavily. “Never. They’ve never changed, Spock, and they never will. I know I haven’t always been worthy of your trust and affections. Miramanee…”

“I did not fault you for actions that occurred while you were not yourself.”

“No. But…after. When I…I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. I couldn’t get past her death and the death of our child and I pushed you away…I’m sorry, Spock.”

“That was not our time, perhaps. It was difficult maintaining the secrecy of a relationship during such trying times aboard the ship.”

“I should have…”

“Jim. We can spend hours upon hours, maybe an eternity even, going over what we should have done, should have said, what actions we could have taken, how we could have avoided hurting each other, and in the end, none of that matters now. What does is this. Have your feelings changed, your expectations, or do you want what I want?”

“And what is that?” Kirk asked, carefully, perhaps foolishly. “Because I know what I want, Spock. What I’ve always wanted and what I threw away as the coward I must have been.”

Spock rose then and moved the few steps over to Kirk’s chair, and knelt down in front of it. “What I want is our time, T’hy’la. To fully embrace what we are, what we should be, have always been, with whatever time each of us has left.”

Kirk was suddenly aware there was wetness on his face, and he wasn’t even sure when he’d started crying, but Spock lifted a hand to wipe at a tear of Kirk’s cheek.

“Yes, Spock. I want the same. I want it all. With you.”

He fell to his knees beside Spock, cradled his beloved Vulcan’s face in his hands and kissed him.

Kirk didn’t know much, but he knew he would never let Spock out of his life again. He would fight for him, fight for Spock, and them, through anything.

**After Khan, After Spock’s Resurrection, After the Whales**

Kirk had had no idea the question of Spock remembering their first night together would ever come back to haunt him. But it did. Almost every day since Spock had been revived.

He’d given up almost everything there was to bring Spock back…to him. Kirk couldn’t really lie that it hadn’t been for him. No matter promises or words made to Sarek or anyone else. Kirk had selfishly sacrificed it all to have Spock alive again.

And as hard as it had all been, as much as it had hurt to know his own son had perished, surely because of him, he’d still felt joy when Spock had turned to him and said, “Jim. Your name is Jim.”

Telling Carol had been torment. She’d looked at him, over the view screen, and she had said in a quiet voice, “And this is why I didn’t want _you_ in his life.”

And then she had closed out of the call, out of Kirk’s life, forever, he imagined.

Kirk couldn’t blame her. He’d made himself sort of sick over the entire matter. But Spock was living and walking and breathing again. And Kirk didn’t know when Spock had become so much of literally everything to him, but he had, and it was the way it was.

The first time, after all that, when they were still on Vulcan, when they hadn’t gone back to save the Earth and the whales, before they’d faced the hearing, and Jim had been gloriously demoted back to Captain. Before that.

He’d been alone with Spock. Spock who looked at him as though he were not a stranger, but not that familiar either, and Kirk, seated across from him, had asked.

“Spock, do you remember our first night together? After T’Pring and the K ** _oon_** -ut-kal-if- ** _fee_**?”

Spock had stared at Kirk, blankly. His expression more blank than it had ever been. And had said, “No.”

That simple word had pierced Kirk’s heart, even if it hadn’t been entirely unexpected.

And so Kirk had nodded, smiled a little, reached over and patted his husband’s knee, said, “That’s okay, Spock.” Stood and walked out of Sarek’s house to do his own form of meditation. A big glass of whiskey.

Spock remembered little of their life, not only from during their missions, but from their bonding and marriage, after the V’Ger incident. He’d been told that Kirk and he were married and bonded, but Spock felt nothing about it.

Kirk had been joined by Bones in the drink.

“After all this, with him not remembering your life, your love, any of that, was all this, was it worth it, Jim?”

Kirk had looked up to the hill where he could see Spock, dressed in his Vulcan robe, walking, going toward the temples.

“Yes,” Kirk had whispered, tears stinging his eyes. “Yes, Bones. It was worth it.”

And now they were back in San Francisco. On temporary leave. They’d be out again, on the Enterprise, someday, Kirk hoped and had been told, though it was hard to trust anything Starfleet said, but the ship was not completed, and Kirk was back to his apartment here. That he’d kept for years and probably would always keep, even when he was retired.

Spock was there with him. It had become their apartment after they married and bonded. Before Khan had come back to destroy it all, them.

The November sky had darkened even though it was barely five-thirty and around the edges was the color of burnt-orange that sort of reminded Kirk of Vulcan. He’d been afraid, ever since they returned, that Spock would come to him and announce his intent to leave, to go back to Vulcan.

Sure, Spock had spoken to his father just before they departed the hearing to decide their fate, and had not given any indication he intended to leave, but it was what Kirk feared nevertheless.

Eventually, surely, Spock would tire of him and not remembering their life.

And yet, gratefully, it had not happened.

He’d made the decision to give Spock space. Both emotionally and figuratively as well as real personal space. He’d turned the office/meditation space they had created together into a bedroom for Spock. Naturally, Kirk hoped it would be temporary, but if not, he would accept Spock in whatever way he was required to do so. Spock was it for him and he only wished he had realized that long before. He hadn’t and was filled with regrets.

“Jim?”

He turned from his spot standing by the railing on the balcony of the apartment to see his husband standing just inside the apartment, peering out at him from the open door. He could tell that Spock was reluctant to step outside, but he also wanted to ask Kirk to come in.

It was breezy and cool and Kirk wasn’t even sure when that had happened as he hadn’t noticed it before.

“Yes, Spock?”

“Will you come inside now?”

And there was a part of him that wanted to say no, that he didn’t want to go back inside to the awkwardness of being husbands and mates but not quite. To a life where he never pressed Spock on what he remembered for fear the answer would also be that he didn’t remember something that had been important to Kirk, to them.

“Sure,” he said instead, sparing one last glance for the breezy night sky. Then he turned and went inside, bemused when Spock stayed there to close the door behind him.

“I have made some soup,” Spock announced then.

He smiled faintly. “Yeah? Plomeek?”

“Negative. Butternut squash. I recalled you had a preference for it.”

Kirk blinked, feeling sudden constriction in his chest. “That’s right. Yes. I…yes. Thank you.”

“If you will sit at the table, I will bring it to you.”

He took his seat at the table which Spock had already set up with a napkin, spoon, knife, butter and bread. The whiskey bottle along with a glass had also been set beside it. But Kirk shook his head.

“I’ll just have water,” he announced.

Spock made no comment. He just took away the whiskey and brought a pitcher of water over, filling both their glasses.

Next came the soup, which arrived steaming hot in ceramic bowls just as Kirk slathered butter on a big thick slice of French bread.

When everything was settled and Spock had taken the seat across from him, Kirk found himself smiling at the simple meal. Maybe Spock couldn’t or hadn’t remembered everything, but there were little bits like this where he did remember and those moments were ones Kirk treasured.

He took a spoonful of the thick soup. “Delicious. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” Spock paused. “Jim.”

“Yeah, Spock?”

“I have a request.”

Kirk nodded. “Okay.” He thought for a second, then chuckled. “Is that why you made the soup? To butter me up?”

Spock arched a brow. “Butter you up?”

“Never mind. What’s your request?”

And he tried not to feel anxious about it. Whatever Spock asked, he certainly would not deny him.

“If you do not object, I would like to move my things back to your bedroom. To share the bed with you.”

Object? Not in a million years.

Kirk reached for Spock’s hand, the one not clutching the spoon, and curved his fingers around the palm of Spock’s hand. “I do not object even a little. I would like nothing better than to have you with me. Every single moment of every single day. Forever and always.”

Spock stared at him, rather blankly, and for a moment Kirk thought he had overstated things. He was known to do that from time to time.

Spock said so softly that he had to strain to hear. “Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched.”

Kirk broke into a smile and maybe there was a little moisture in his eyes too. “Yeah. Yes, Spock.”

“After dinner, then, I will move my stuff,” Spock said simply then.

Kirk found himself suddenly eager to finish the soup and bread. And yes, there was still a long way to go, he knew that. But this…his heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. There was hope.

****

Though there was much Spock did not recall about his previous life still, he was beginning to remember larger pieces, thanks in part to melds with Jim as well as ‘reminder’ stories from Jim and others, including Spock’s parents.

And though Jim seemed more reluctant to travel these days, he still accompanied Spock on a trip back to his home planet of Vulcan.

Spock had relayed that Jim did not have to accompany him if he preferred not to, but Jim had balked at that, getting that look on his face that was a cross between disappointment, resignation, irritation, and indulgence. Spock didn’t know anyone else who wore that expression, but it seemed to be a favorite of Jim’s.

“No,” Jim had said. “I’m coming.”

Spock was glad, though, because he’d had no particular fondness for making the trip by himself. It was reported that his mother was not well and might not live much longer. Having Jim by his side was desirable under those circumstances, but he would rather Jim was comfortable than not, which was why he did say that Jim could avoid it if desired.

Jim was quiet on the shuttle ride there, and though Spock was not entirely certain, given his patchy memory, he suspected that was not usual for him.

“You are pensive,” he finally said.

Jim glanced at him, a small toothless smile appearing. “Am I? I don’t mean to be.”

Spock hesitated. “If your preference was to stay in San Francisco, I would have made no objection.”

Jim shook his head. “Not at all. I’m just…my parents have already passed on, and now, maybe your mother.”

“Yes.”

Jim shrugged. “Makes me think more about…mortality, I suppose.”

“You fear death?”

The smile grew crooked. “It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.”

“Marcus Aurelius.”

“Yes,” Jim said, seeming surprised Spock could remember that.

Spock supposed it was surprising. “I do not think you need to worry about a life not well-lived, Jim.”

“Perhaps not. Anyway, I know that I will die alone.”

“And how do you know this?”

“A feeling.”

Spock wondered where he himself would be that Jim would die alone, but decided not to dwell on this rather morbid declaration at this time. There were other considerations.

“Likewise, I do not think that my mother has any regrets for the life she has led.”

“No,” Jim agreed. “I imagine not. Still, when she does pass, I’m not sure how your dad will handle it.”

“I suppose he will handle it like a Vulcan.”

Jim snorted at that, though Spock did not know why. “How about you, Spock? Will you be all right?”

“One expects one’s parent to die before them.”

Jim sighed. He got that look again. “Yeah I know.”

There was no one else around them on the shuttle and Spock found himself reaching over to take Jim’s hand. Jim glanced at him in surprise, but he willingly took Spock’s hand in his.

“If you are by my side, T’hy’la, I can handle anything.”

Jim swallowed, nodded, and squeezed Spock’s hands. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that. Thank you, Spock. And I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. Not without you.”

“Good. Then we are agreed. And whatever we face on Vulcan, it will be together.”

“Always.”

Jim leaned against him then and fell asleep and though there was much that was still lost to Spock, this-this was not. And he was filled with gratitude.

****

Spock liked to indulge Jim whenever he could and so, when Jim had mentioned to him that he wanted to have a small gathering of friends the last Thursday of November, in San Francisco, before they were to depart later that weekend for a few weeks in Aspen, Colorado, Spock had agreed.

Many hundreds of years ago it had been a tradition in what was part of the United States to have a huge meal to be thankful of all that one had in one’s life. Spock had read about it, prior, of course, and had been informed again about it by Jim.

He had invited all of their former crew members, McCoy, Uhura, Sulu, Chekov, and Scott. Their family really. Uhura and Scott would be attending together, of course, for Mr. Scott had made it clear he was sweet on her, and Spock guessed, she him.

Jim greeted them all warmly, pouring wine freely, and generally being an affable host to all. He had made a turkey, stuffed with bread, for those that ate meat, and many vegetarian offerings for those that did not.

Which included Spock and his father, who was coming, because he was there, on Earth, and alone now. Jim hadn’t wanted to exclude anyone even though Spock had assured Jim his father would not feel that way.

The truth was, Spock was not certain.

Not because of the memory lapses, but because there was still so much Spock did not understand about Sarek and that Sarek did not understand about him.

It was the way of things.

“Spock?”

He turned toward Jim. “Yes, T’hy’la?”

Jim smiled then. His eyes lighting up with warmth and affection. “You’ve been in the kitchen a while. Are you hiding from our guests, sweetheart?”

“No. Though I admit socializing is not my…preference.”

“I know. And you’re wonderful to allow this.”

“I would hardly deny you or them. And I understand the sentiment. I am grateful for them, for my father, and especially, for you.”

That smile widened until it nearly split Jim’s face. “I’m grateful for all that too. And you. You have no idea. This is probably our fourth or fifth chance. Whatever. But damn, I’m glad. So thankful, Spock.”

He held Spock by the arms and leaned up to kiss his husband. “Now, come. Let’s celebrate Thanksgiving.”

“Indeed.” Spock hesitated. “Jim?”

“Yeah, Spock?”

“I am most thankful to remember you.”

“Me too.” Jim squeezed his hand. “More than you can ever know.”

Spock picked up the cornbread pudding and followed Jim out to the dining room to exclaims of excitement from their guests.

And maybe, later, they could gather for a picture together. So that they would always remember this time, with all of them, together.

Spock knew they would not always be able to do this. Sooner or later the first of them would pass on. But now they had this.

He had Jim.

**Author's Note:**

> To read their prior story, before being Old Married Spirk, go here: [What Now?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20668919)
> 
> I have gifted this story to Dreamsaremadeofthis because she insisted that I should write for the Old Married Spirk Challenge this year. I was only going to do AOS, which I did, check out here: [In My Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21273491)  
> But she convinced me to do TOS also. So, here it is.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
